The Life of the Party
by ascendingmind
Summary: "Galinda Arduenna Upland of the Upper Uplands had always been the life of the party. She'd been the one person everyone glanced at, the one that had been adored, loved, cherished, admired to no end in a feat of grand popularity. It was all a lie, though, wasn't it? " • One-shot, character introspection. Mostly musical!verse.


**A/N: Mandatory disclaimer here saying that I obviously do not own Wicked, or any of the characters appearing in this story, and make no claim to do so whatsoever. This is also probably going to be pretty bad and confusing (even I was confused while writing it!), but it is rather late in my timezone and this is usually the time where I want to cry over fictional characters - And Glinda is just a heartbreaking character. So here it is. Review if you like (I love reviews :D but, obviously, that's entirely up to you x) ) and keep in mind english isn't my mother tongue, please? :P (that means any flaws you can point out for me to change is welcomed. I did proof-read, but if I don't understand my mistakes as mistakes, it is pretty useless x) ). I may or may not have included a small nod to L. Frank Baum's ****_The Wizard of Oz_****, because I absolutely adore this book (and the ones that followed). **

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Galinda Arduenna Upland of the Upper Uplands had always been the life of the party. She'd been the one person everyone glanced at, the one that had been adored, loved, cherished, admired to no end in a feat of grand popularity. It had been brilliant and had lasted all through her youth, even going into Shiz University.

It was all a lie, though, wasn't it?

At the end of the day, when all that was left was _herself_, with no other foreign eyes left to stare at her, observe her every gestures and no kind compliments to smile brightly back to, all that was left was her – The timeless beauty, the blonde curls softly framing her face in a big, cold mirror void of emotions. Galinda had been a beautiful, pretty reflexion of everything she had ever aspired to be – Because she was an Upland, and she firmly believed looking like what you aspired to be was already half the work done, and no matter if she wasn't too sure about what she would be, she knew it would undeniably be something great. Reflexions were cold, though – And they were hard, and unfeeling, and only showed back to her the bitter of her own selfishness, her own ambitions and her own cowardice. She paid no mind to it when she was younger because, with the depth only children can ever hope to obtain, she supposed that the only thing she ever really wanted was to be loved, and that it was something her beauty and kind ways entitled her to. She also figured wanting to be loved was enough of a noble aim, in all her youthful near-sightedness. And perhaps, for a time, it was. And so, Galinda Arduenna Upland played airhead, popular, bubbly – So well she did not know what was true and what was a lie, but she did not really mind so long as it got her what she wanted and, _of course_, it _always_ got her what she wanted. She was a terrified kid, back then – A beautiful, terrified reflexion of a kid who had just gotten accepted into Shiz University. It proved her worth, proved she was worthy of being loved, proved she had nothing to fear, but it was not enough.

Enter the artichoke, with a skin so green it became emerald and, though Galinda quite frankly much preferred rubies – she used to joke about this, as a kid, always telling her parents how she did not mind if she was not a princess, so long as she could sit on a throne made of rubies – and though everything about this _green _girl seemed to clash with the petite blonde in a apotheosis of loathing, hating Elphaba was much less sincere and much more motivated by her grand ideas of love, perfection, goodness and everything in between. It had never been about Elphaba, and more about the idea of her. And then Fiyero came in and _everything_ changed. Elphaba, for one. Her unwilling roommate turned out to become her best friend in ways that only ever happen with children – But Galinda was grateful for this, for Elphie's friendship. She never really had gotten the chance to tell her just _how grateful_, until it was too late to really make a difference in either of their lives, but she was. She would be, until the day she died. Galinda knew better than to think Fiyero changed her – Elphie did. Elphie, always Elphie, with her green skin, her books, and that particular brand of humour Galinda was not quite sure she understood, but that she knew was really clever and really bright and so she admired it -, still it would have been unfair to say Fiyero did not have his own selfish influence on her life, because Galinda had not merely had a crush on him. She hadn't simply loved him like a child loved her toys. She had been in love with him – And the idea she had given him everything she had ever wanted for herself, while he was so obviously much less committed to her, was a bitter irony. She'd loved Elphie, and she had been in love with Fiyero and everything was perfect enough for little Galinda Arduenna Upland from the Upper Uplands. Her smiles were more genuine, the party burned brighter, the roars of happiness of all of her fake friends would never beat the smile of Elphaba's lips as Galinda had joined her in her awkward, poor dancing that night at the OzDust – the night they became friends. If Fiyero and Elphaba were around, being the life of the party seemed like quite an easy task. Even what's-his-name – Biq? Wasn't his name Biq? Galinda was at least certain it started with a B – and Nessarose seemed to have enjoyed themselves, and this only slightly eased the guilt Galinda would always feel at pushing the two of them together. Still, at the time, this was an easy guilt. Everything was much simpler. Life was _always_ a party.

Glinda the Good was not so much the life of the party as the party in itself. She brought it with her, everywhere – With a smile plastered upon her face and kind words of encouragements to give to the good and frightened people of Oz. There were days she smiled so much her cheeks would hurt, and the only thing she wanted most in the world would be to be back in that dorm room at Shiz University, pouting as Elphie would tell her once again that she would not wear a pastel dress to class on the next day, no matter how much Galinda insisted that "_pastel goes well with green! It makes your skin tone pop-up nicely!"_. Then, her biggest problem would be not being loved enough by her fake friends, she could have pretended that she was indeed bubbly, and airheaded, and much less wise and capable of depth than she actually was and everything would have been easy. The only things Glinda the Good had taken from Galinda Upland were the bright, fake smile and the capacity she'd had to delude herself into thinking that if she pretended well enough, then surely it would become a less painful reality – Much happier for everyone. She'd always wanted to make people happy – She'd always wanted to have people love her, but she also valued the concept of happiness more than people would understand. If they saw her happy, believed she was happy, then surely they would be happy too.

There were, however, some things that even Glinda The Good could not delude herself into thinking. She could not delude herself into thinking everything would be alright in the end – no matter how hard she tried, how much the encouraging words slipped her lips, she could not imagine things would ever go back to the way they were, and so they would never be _alright_ -; she could not delude herself into believing her best friend – the one she had betrayed. It stung. – was a criminal but, in a twisted trick of fate, could not delude herself into believing said best-friend would one day come back and make everything better; she could not delude herself into believing Fiyero was in love with her. It did not take being smart – which Glinda was – to notice this. He had been thinking - He had not stopped since Shiz and, somehow, Glinda knew this was not about her. She was in love with him all the same, and though it pained her to know he did not share her feelings, it pained her more to know he was vastly unhappy. She remembered a girl in Shiz wearing a pink dress and affirming to her best friend that she would marry the prince someday – And then, all thoughts of ruby thrones were gone if being a princess meant being with Fiyero – and now? Now marrying him felt like destroying him even more. He was never with Glinda, always away with Elphaba – _looking for Elphaba_, Glinda urged herself to think as if this was the better alternative, as if Elphie had not taken an irreplaceable piece of his soul with her, just like she did with Glinda's. There was a void between them. He was no longer the life, the party, the dancing and, clad in his Gale Force uniform, was actually not much at all but the shell of a man Glinda had loved with a strength she had wanted for herself. However, Glinda The Good was selfish – She could not let him go, could not watch him leave. Not _him_, too. Not when Elphie had already been ripped away from her – _No._ Glinda thought. _Elphie is gone because she willed it so, and perhaps was she immensely brave, and perhaps it makes me the coward, but she made her choices and left all of us anyway._ It was overly simplistic, to think that way. It was also, however, numbing the pain. And if Glinda felt numb, then the burn on her cheeks from smiling too much did not sting as bad, and the unshed tears were invisible even to her own eyes. Her compliments were kinder, her encouraging the good people of Oz was more fervent. She fought against the wind, she knew – A Western wind -, and was running out of time, but still she tried harder, and pushed until she made it. She tried to do good, even if by standards she knew were unbearably twisted. She did what she did best, then – Being the life of the party, looking the part and pretending. With Fiyero on her arm, if Glinda pretended _just right_, she could even lie to herself and pretend everything was perfect, how it should be, if only for a split second.

It was all a lie, though. She knew, and Fiyero knew, and she even assumed Madame Morrible and the Wizard knew as well, though the two latter did not care. She could not have done it without him, without Fiyero. His presence hurt her in impossible ways, reminding her of past memories she needed to pretend were all lies, but she simply could not let him go. He was her sanity, her anchor, and everything she had ever wanted but could never seem to obtain. She needed him. The idea he might not need her back was even more terrifying than the one of not being loved. Yet he left - He had always been the braver one of the two – and his name became just another one to add to the long list of guilt Glinda _The Good_ had. _Boq. Nessarose. Elphie. Fiyero. _

For a while, she despised Elphie to be the reason why he left - She had needed him so much, and her best friend had gotten him in the end. Still, Glinda knew deep down this was neither Elphaba's fault, nor Fiyero's. It was just easier to pretend it was.

Lady Glinda was new. Of course, she was still _Glinda The Good_, but Lady Glinda was everything the title was not – It was honest, simple, and basic. Lady Glinda, the one who had heard her best friend's last agonizing scream, clutching the Grimmerie tightly against her chest. Fiyero was gone. Elphie was gone. Nessarose was gone. Boq – So it _did_ start with a B! – was probably gone, or as good as such. Glinda The Good was an illusion, and it had been so long since she last was Galinda Arduenna Uplan of the Upper Uplands that she seemed like a stranger to her own self. All that was left – All that remained of the simpler times, the golden couple of Shiz University and their somewhat weird band of friends – was Lady Glinda. Surprisingly enough, she still held on to Elphaba's last wish and never cleared her name. She did it because Elphaba was dead, because Elphie was the best friend she'd ever had, because Glinda was a coward and this could well be her proudest act of bravery. She did not know if this came from Galinda Upland, from Glinda The Good or from Lady Glinda. She did not really know if it mattered or if she cared. All that was left for her was going on, because her history was the one being written – and it was filled with lies. People would never know the whole story – and because, well, because no one mourned the wicked. Glinda was loved and she was good – or at least, she tried to be, day after day after day -, and would continue being so forever if it meant pushing back the ending of her own story. Now that she was alone in a sea of people who would never really know her, it was the less terrifying and dreamless opportunity. Perhaps she could get this throne of rubies now.

And, just like that, it was all gone. The life, the party, and everything in between.


End file.
